Pearls and Pirates
by Kureiji-Kurai
Summary: A fishing crew believes they caught a treasure when they drag a Mermaid to the surface, and they're right, just not lucky. Captain Moriarty never believed in legends but he knows treasure when he sees it and what is a pirate to do if not steal treasure? The alluring Siren known only as Molly might be his end or his greatest theft of all! If he can keep her. Pirate&SirenAU!
1. Chapter 1

**_Pearls and Pirates_**

_*Sherlock BBC_

_James Moriarty, Tom/Sebastian Moran, Molly Hooper_

_AN: This is a Pirate and Siren AU, obviously. I really just have a thing in my head for Molly being a Siren, don't ask me why, but I want it! Molly as a Siren seems intensely fun to me! For once I think she should be the powerful one in the group, the one people secretly fear. (It was a thing in my head that would not go away and I didn't totally want it to) Moriarty as a Pirate just fits to me as well! Tom is Sebastian Moran, as it is in my other story as well, so if you read that you understand. _

_Sherlock will be around too, as will John and Lestrade, though not as you might expect because I have some fun ideas on Sherlock too for the story. It is mainly a Molliarty though with mild sprinkles of Sherlolly._

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The hollow and repetitious thump of boots walking down the deck rumbled around two men. Ships loomed tall and imposing on either side of them as they strolled casually through the massive port, bending the world around them and forcing others to swerve to avoid their slower pace. Crew members smelling of sea water, fish, wood, and a great many other thing, clambered rapidly around the two figures purposefully taking their time. Calls went out and were answered from man to man as they all rushed about, flooding the docks with loud shouts of all languages and accented twangs of all the places represented in the culmination of seamen. Wood cracked and creaked as empty and full barrels and wagons alike were shoved about in a far less than gentle manner. Sails whipped in the wind as some ships readied to sail once again, stocked for the voyage. Seagulls hovered near, answering in their own calls, staying close to all the various fishing boats. The sea port on the edge of town was a wild mess of action and grating sound.

The chaos had no hold over those two figures, one slightly taller than the other, each well dressed without being obvious or glaring. They looked nothing like the men around them, groomed, clean shaven, clean in general, and graceful but they somehow did not stick out the way they really should have. They were painfully skilled at blending in with those around them, drawing eyes only when they had desire to. Though swords swayed at each of their hips, it was somehow well hidden in the folds of coats and fabric, and everyone carried weapons of some form or other anyway.

The salty crews of the various ships were busy at work, ignoring the man in a long, dark coat, crimson velvet at cuffs and collar. No, they did not notice the black eyes that watched each one of them with a cloying carefulness of a man reading books from each tiny thing he observed. They spared no looks for the taller man staying a stride behind him, stiff posture of a soldier, and cold blue eyes scanning each motion as if waiting patiently for threats that could arise. Focused on their tasks as they were, they would never have guessed that the slight looking man with onyx hair slicked neatly back into a short tail at the base of his skull, the parlor snake looking fellow, already had their weakest points picked out and knew where to hit their ships by watching them work as they always did.

The fools had utterly no idea the one and only Captain of the **Reichenbach**, James Moriarty, walked among them; further were unaware that the innocent, seemingly unassuming young man with dark and wild curls following was the Colonel, turned deserter to the Queens navy, Sebastian Moran, current first mate of much renown. Captain Moriarty and crew were the most feared lot in the seven seas, and they were not the only ones that claimed so, everyone did. A pirate captain with all his limbs and general extremities intact was one to be feared indeed; one with a first mate with the same functioning limbs was worthy of terror; or worthy of mockery for lack of action, but not in this case for their ship was well known. The dreaded captain's name was whispered if it was spoken at all and any cargo ships trembled at the sight of _that_ ship's sails, knowing they spelled untold horror to any unfortunate enough to be run down.

The pare traveled through the blissful crowd, taking very careful stock of everything being wheeled or rolled onto each vessel. Their own ship was docked nearly at the end of the line, minus their usual flag and their particular sails carefully lowered, a few very decorative bits spread in obvious places to be removed later. Once they were ready to sail again themselves, this little scouting stroll would be quite useful in plotting a course. What they observed here would reveal to them anything they needed to know for later when they graciously took the time out of their day to visit the ships they found worthy of attention.

Trim hips swaying slightly, coat tails lapping at his heels, the young, though notoriously ruthless Captain made his way up the steps leading to the cliffs and the shops above. His perpetually bored eyes wondered over the people milling about, looking right through the majority of them that held no value to him. A very slight smile was on his lips, just enough to keep him looking friendly but not tipping into his more manic and crazed smirks. There was a strange mix to the man, a look of worldly wiles and pitiful innocents meshed into a single damaged individual. James strutted down the center like a king, and people did always move for him somehow. His exotic good looks, gentle but sharp facial bone structure, along with a toned body ensured that he turned heads, male and female alike at times. People could see there was something different about him even if they could not place why, but he drew and repelled people in one motion of push and pull, like the moon.

Moran looked a great deal more bored than his captain, not bothering with the pleasant expression. No one was watching them so there was no point in putting on a show. While he was perfectly capable of smiling and putting people off by using his boyish looks, though not as impressive as Moriarty, he did not bother in crowds. He was less graceful, more stiff and ridged than his companion but he walked with a respectable power drilled into him so strongly he would never exactly seem less than a soldier again. With the wind tugging at his curls, sun toying with his dips and plains, he seemed no more than an innocent boy grown up too soon, but cast him in the dark shadows of a ship sails, sword in hand, and he was a veritable demon.

"Let's take a look around, see what we can see." Moriarty chirped in his thick Irish drawl, voice lacking all intimidation in its casual softness, more excited about strolling the area to seek out vantage points than a murderous sea devil had any right to be.

"Anything you say, boss." Sebastian replied in his very English, short and to the point, tone of voice, business as always. He was here to be sure the changeable and often flighty creature did not get himself into trouble as he had habit of doing when he grew bored in the slightest.

The market was crowded and more noisy than the dock had been, brimming with people buying and selling whatever they could. Nothing interesting, not a single one. Interesting things were not done out in the open market, they were done in shadows far away from crowds, and Moriarty knew this. People saw them, watched them, some probably even trying to decide if the strangers would make good marks, but they paid no attention.

They turned rather sharply, Sebastian skillfully staying on the other man's heels, practice of this nature serving him well for the captains whimsical moods. They were to go exploring today while the others worked on the ship. Moriarty was a brilliant leader, unmatched in cunning but he was not one to get down into the dirt with him crew. No, instead he did reconnaissance and scouting and plotting while roaming about whatever inlet they were on.

He moved wherever the wind blew him after he was finished investigating on the docks. He tended to enjoy seeing what the locals had brewing, hidden away from prying eyes, typically squirreled away in sea caves. Even if nothing was hiding there, the terrifying killer still enjoyed exploring places like a child. The first mate did not mind. James saved him from a life he never wanted and gave him a new, more exciting one he was far better suited to.

_Yo ho! _Breaking rules without a care, enjoying every minute.

It took them little time to skirt around the edge of the town, the both of them adjusting from sea legs to land legs more easily than most, headed directly for the more private and unused sections of shore. Moriarty was nearly galloping once they trekked away from the main group of people. His dark eyes had been cast to a ship unusually docked some distance from port, sure there had to be some grand mystery to the act. The man loved little mysteries like that and he loved better to poke his nose into the business of others. Nosy blighter, he was! Usually right about his hunches too! But again, Moran did not care nor mind, following only too willingly.

They slowed considerably once they neared enough to hear the men belonging to the boat shouting out to each other. It was, upon a closer inspection, a fishing boat. They seemed on edge about something and Jim was nearly vibrating in his boots to know what it was, hoping for treasure, no doubt. He shot his first mate several excited glanced, black-brown eyes dancing in his head as he grinned, prowling like a panther over the rocks to get close enough to see. The two crouched behind a grouping of rocks to watch the beached boat rock with the motion of the men climbing about.

The sound of rattling chains, water slapping, wet skin and wood colliding, and finally something heavy being dragged in hitches and stops. The men were shouting and cursing at something, all sounding tired and strangely a bit wary. Whatever was on that fishing boat had caused quite the stir with crew and captain. Said scruffy captain marched angrily from the plank to the shore, bellowing orders around a thick beard and oily, long strands of hard hair.

"Haul the damn thing out here where it's easier to deal with! But I _swear_, you let it go and I'll be selling _your_ skin at market!"

"It bites!" One yet unseen man with a hideous accent of poor education yowled back.

"Tell someone that cares! Cut your bellyaching and get it out here! You'll be thanking me when we're rich!" The scraggly stick of a man insisted too loudly.

Jim turned and whispered directly into Sebastian's ear, "He's just asking for it, I say! Any that yell things like that so openly deserve to be stolen from." They were knelt uncomfortably in rock and sand but neither seemed to notice too much as they watched the fisherman's drama. The boat was less than half the size of their ship but it was not the worst little sea vessel fishermen could be using. Whatever strange items they had aboard could be nearly anything.

The captain of the fishing boat stomped about in the sandy patch of beach not covered in water. The tide was going out rather swiftly and that boat would soon be grounded until the waters returned but the crew did not seem worried about that. They planned to stay where they were at least for the night.

Grunts and groans like a bunch of seals laying out on the rocks billowed out from the boat as men finally came into view, all six with chains in hand, struggling with something that was very clearly moving, not just moving either, more like thrashing about like a-

Both men went positively ridged, eyes wide and fixed. Sebastian cursed under his breath before saying a quick prayer for protection most any sailor always learned to quote when under stress. Moriarty's mouth dropped open wide enough to catch fish had he been swimming, totally in wonder of exactly what he was witnessing. The first mate had to catch his wrists to keep him for standing up and racing off to catch an honest look.

It was a woman, but not simply a woman, no, that was a _tail_ she sported, not legs! She looked wild, like so many caged animals, wet dark hair swept back and sticking to her back and chest as her eyes darted over the men around her. Even with wild, furious eyes, she was stunningly beautiful, skin glittering in the light, just like legend would suppose. It would not be difficult to understand how any man would risk a watery death to come close to a sea goddess like that, body bared to the world save for her long wet hair clinging to her and the remainder of a fishing net wound partly around her shoulders and torso. The fin of her white and gray tail swayed as if itching to be in the water, swimming away from the bunch of them. Her long fingers dug into the sand as she seemed to ready herself for whatever they might throw at her, shackles holding tightly to her wrists.

Those fishermen had given a might jerk as one, causing the creature to roll down the planks, almost taking the men with her. They regained themselves before her impressively large tail could bat them down again, all cursing wildly at her and one of them batting at her fin with a club. That made her hiss wildly, swirling her body around impressively quickly, something akin to a snake, as she aimed her claws at his face. The chains rattled as the other men jerked her back and away from their fellow crew member, though even then she had managed to cut some nice claw marks into his shirt and bring a little blood to the surface.

The man yelped, obviously more frightened by his close encounter than anyone else and he struck her quite hard in the center of her tail, bringing a pained and not nearly human enough cry from her lips. The two observers watched in stunned amazement as a particularly brave young man pounced on her back, looping a bandanna over the lower half of her face, attempting to gag her, but she slung him off, nearly catching hold of him despite the chains. He too was saved by the chains being violent thrown back and another fisherman, the captain, tossing him away by the scruff of the neck.

"Careful, Dimmok, it nearly had you!" The captain snapped.

"We have to keep her quiet, Anderson! She might have us all if we don't get the gag back on her!" The younger man protested from the ground, leaning up on his elbows.

"Were I of a mind to enchant you," the creature's lyrical, lilting, feminine voice crooned, "it would have been done." She grinned at the men, white teeth bared for them all to see.

She enchanted two pirates looking on alright, even if she had not been trying! A pirate captain in particular. Sebastian did not even need to ask to know perfectly well they would be stealing this treasure away from some unworthy men. Dangerous or not, that... mermaid would be a new addition to the horde, somehow.

"She'll call in her sisters to drown us!" Dimmok persisted, ignoring her as the other men pulled at the chains to drag her fully from the gangplank.

"Nothin' she can do now but give us what we want. Have her call 'em!" Anderson sneered, "Be more money for us when we drag them all in."

James actually shivered, violently too, when the creature laughed, sounding like mystic music itself. There was a strain to her voice though, and just a little inspection told the reason, and it was not fear. She was injured and in pain, that was obvious by the trail of blood down the plank and pooling on the sand. The wound was absolutely obvious against her white scales. Around the joint in her tail, where knees would typically have been on a human, there was a jagged and torn section piercing from one side to the other, an obvious harpoon injury. Nets and a harpoon was how they caught her, it would seem.

"Tie 'er down!" Anderson barked, "She might be tough but we'll see how she holds when she's bakin' in the sun like yesterday's catch!"

The mermaid gave little sound as the men dragged her roughly over the sand and rock to chain her to one of the larger ones. They forced her back, yanking her arms up over her head and secured the chain tightly, looping it round the rock and staking it just to be sure. Her tail swayed and she lashed out at them but there was little she could do to stop any of them. Still, she did not look frightened, only angry as she stared daggers at them.

"By the end of the day, she will have given us buckets of pearls in her weeping!" Anderson smirked triumphantly, hands on his hips. "We'll be rich! Mermaids tears might be hard to come by, since they are obviously stubborn, but the sun'll do our work for us!"

Venom dripped like acid from her voice as she turned dangerous eyes on the captain, "Mortal men are surely the greatest fools of all living creatures in land or sea. I will not cry, nor, as I have told you, will my tears turn to _pearls_. Only the**_ stupidest_** of your kind believe such things!"

"Coming from a myth, pardon me if I don't believe you when you tell me it's only a story!" The man spat through his beard, "'Sides, you'll make me money even if they're not pearls! Anyone'll pay a handsome price for a bloody mermaid!"

Almost imperceptibly, she stiffened at that, face sobering further and her lips thinning with tension. She might not have been afraid, but she was not exactly **_un_** afraid either! Prize secured to her heated fate, the men began to filter away toward shore. The captain left two men in charge of watching their pearl maker before the bunch of them walked out of sights and over the cliffs. The two men were stood warily, guns aimed for her rather than slung onto their shoulders. The siren did not move, however, not even a twitch; she simply stared out at the retreating sea with a resolute longing for things unattainable. The little, huge monster of a sea creature seemed tired. Easy to understand why after all she clearly had been put through.

It was so silent as they all watched and were watched, not even the waves were there to crash against the rocks. A few seagulls screamed above to make the silence less so, but that was all. The Pirate Captain and his second did not move, they only stared at the mermaid, finally able to really get a look at her now that she was so still. Something seemed wrong with her from their vantage point because she was breathing much harder the longer she sat in the sun, seeming more drained by the minute. A closer look was preferable though, but James had left his gun behind. Moran had his strapped to the inside of his light coat, but there were two guards to its one shot. A shot might call the others down on them too. They would have to wait until they were out of sight.

The fishermen were probably killing her. Those things were not meant to sit in the sun like that, even with the cooling wind to take the edge off.

Her utter lack of motion slowly seemed to lull them into relaxation, the rifles moving to sit on their shoulders. The two spy's waited in silence, knowing the louts would eventually decide they needed a drink. They were fishermen, not guards, and not pirates! Playing watchmen for a woman with a tail was not exactly what they did. They threw nets into the water and pulled them back up, not much brain power needed there.

It did not take long before one of them went below, presumably to get something for the both of them but when he did not return fast enough, the other grumbled and slipped into the ship quietly, glancing at the creature before hurrying off. It was clear that she noticed them go but she did not move, seeming so resigned it was almost sad. The mermaid had lost the battle and she knew it. She still did not seem afraid but she did seem to have left herself to fate.

Lucky for her, fate saw fit to send a dashing young pirate to her! James stood slowly, Sebastian rising at his side, eyes each fixed on their little target. It might be a little challenging to carry a mermaid off through town and over a dock, but they surely could find a way. They smuggled things all of the time! It was what they did! The good captain was very, very good with his tongue and he could lie his way out of any situation, and he should also be able to convince a pretty little sea monster that he was her only hope.

"What the devil?" Moran sputtered in a whisper.

"Might be... a damn pretty devil..." Moriarty mused, brows arched as he watch in stunned rapture. Shock had worn off after the initial impact of seeing a mystic creature and now it was simply fascination.

The dear girl did not look to be in any great mood about what was happening to her, seemed to be suffering some for it, but she was changing. That shimmering, white and silver tail, the long, enormous and powerful thing, it was melting! Not exactly melting, more like slipping off, like snakes shed skin; but that was not all, that dead skin looked alive and magical and-

"So it is true, what they say!" Moran's eyes could not have been wider if they tried, nor could the Captain's grin have been bigger, "Sea foam... it turns into sea foam! They really are born from it!"

"Born from it... more like create it. It's dead skin of mermaids we sail through every day, my friend, just think of that next time." Moriarty muttered as he focused his eyes carefully on her, all that exposed muscle and bone. That did look painful alright, like her melted scales just left her an open wound; but that too changed, the color of whatever skin she now had slowly turning white and then shifting to peach, her legs blending with the rest of her skin. James squinted and blinked a few times as his mind worked that new revelation over. Those were indeed feet and separated legs, some very human looking ones where it had been anything but human a few minutes ago.

Silence fell again as the two found themselves inevitably staring once again, minds racing to catch up with their eyes. What a day! What a discovery! Moriarty's legs were uncomfortable, needing the blood to flow properly after crouching so long. Now was as good a time as any to make his move, and besides, those fishermen would be back up with bottles of rum in hand any minute! No time to sit around! Life was handed to men of action!

There was a human lady chained to a rock by some horrible sailors and what could a good honest man do but rescue her from such a fate? He could but follow morals and save her, obviously! At least, that would be how he was about to portray his current endeavor. She could speak and understand him and that was really all any gifted liar needed!

Moriarty bolted from his place, legs pumping, a horrified, worried, and fearful expression twisted onto his face, making him look just that much younger. Sebastian was soon on his heels, racing up to the poor girl and crouching beside her. Ever an artist, the captain was all cooing and fussing, hands wringing before him, eyes almost watering with absolute pity for her obvious plight.

Moriarty was a grand liar, and even Moran nearly believed he was nothing more than an innocent and young good seminarian stumbling on an atrocity committed against a girl they surely had not seen transform.

The creature; the even more gorgeous up close; woman looked at them with wide and confused eyes. Clearly she had no idea what she should think of a sudden arrival of two humans. Though they were clearly not the same as the men from the fishing ship, how could she be expected to judge them with any accuracy? Humans could hardly be her forte. She tensed very little though which meant she had yet to feel threatened by either of them. Her dark amber eyes turned to the captain as he spoke hurriedly.

"What devils did this to you, love?" He was already peeling his coat from his shoulders when he "noticed" the blood and gaping wound on her right leg, "Lord above! What did they _do_ to you? Those Cretans hurt you!" He was cooing at her and sounding distressed at once.

Sebastian was not exactly a poor liar himself, for how else could he have gained the rank in the navy he had with his leaning for the illegal; but he was practical, the sort that could come up with a strategy instantly that would give a lie something believable to cling to. "Where are they, the men that did this to you? Are they still near?" His blue eyes darted to the ship with feigned worry, "Is it them?"

The doubt was vanishing from her sweetheart, adorable and much too innocent for a monster, face. The two of them together seemed to have her convinced, and even if she questioned their honesty, they were her current best option. "Yes, it is the men from the boat." Her voice was quiet and deliberate, taking on something of a fearful dip that was clearly for their benefit, "There are still two on the ship but the others are gone." Yes, she was smart and she would take what she could get, which was them at the moment.

"We must get her away from here!" James whined urgently, eyes pitifully going back and froth nervously, "We will get you away from them, we will!" He draped his coat carefully over the front of her and it could have swallowed her much more delicate frame; for a monster, she was not nearly as large as she seemed, at least without the tail.

Moran crawled around to work the stake from the ground, which he did rather quickly, unwinding the chain from the rock.

Neither of them knew what she would do once the chain was unwound but they felt moderately safe so long as the shackles were still in place. Injured and chained, what chance would she really have in the water or on land? Even without conferring they knew what the other was thinking on that subject. They worked well together, which was why they remained captain and first mate so long when many others before Moran had not lived long enough to keep the post.

"We have to get these horrid things off her!" Moriarty pleaded to the other man imploringly without meaning it in the slightest.

Regretfully, at least in tone, Moran denied the capability, "We can't. We don't have a key and we have not the tools nor time to remove them before those pirates return." He could have, they both had no trouble with locks, but that did not suit their purpose, "We must go now and worry about them later."

James nodded grimly, "Of course, you're right, it's not safe to stay here." His dark eyes looked into her face with such an apologetic, crushing sympathy that would have convinced the devil himself, "I promise, love, we will get you away from here, just brace yourself... it is likely to hurt when we move you. You're badly injured, but I will do my best not to cause you more pain."

Her eyes took long looks at both of them, mind so obviously whirling that they could nearly read her thoughts. Those arms as well as those dangerous hands were tucked under the coat, held up against her chest. Moriarty reached for her slowly and she grew tense but he did not stop, bravely reaching one arm under her shoulders and the other very gently under her legs. That smooth, perfect jawline of hers clenched, round eyes narrowing but she did not resist as the captain lifted her up and into his arms. Like the good, attentive gentleman that he was, Moran tucked the coat around her, balling the remaining links of chain into something she could manage to hold, tucking that out of sight too before the three made to escape.

The good captain was quick on his feet, lithe as a squirrel in the treetop even over the rocks of the cliff. The two ran because they very genuinely did not want Anderson's men to see them or have any idea their treasure did anything but slither away to the sea. They were interested in a clean getaway.

Calls of distress did reach their hearing but they did not look back to see if they had been spotted or if the men behind were simply shocked by the obvious empty space on the sand. Regardless, they ran faster, sprinting over the shoreline and making their way swiftly back the way they had come. Their charge made no sound, hardly even wincing while her body was jostled and injury likely agitated. Interestingly, she seemed relaxed, unconcerned now that she was with two men she probably expected she could handle better, two she thought had no idea about her little secret.

More interesting was the fact that she did not question where they were taking her, though it was obviously town. Undoubtedly she was relying in the fact that no human would believe her to be any sort of sea monster. Looking at her now, she was so human looking they might have been convinced they had never seen her look any different, but they had both seen it, so that was proof enough. The little lady actually watched their progress carefully, examining things as they flew by.

She had better chance to sight see when they came to the edge of town, slowing once they saw people, not interested in anyone setting eyes on them carrying a naked girl into town nor for them to see where they took her. As luck would have it, they did have a room for the night in a seedy but quiet little place where the owner was discrete and kept himself to himself rather than informing on guests.

Their slowed retreat did cause her to tense, glancing at each strangely. Rather than let her ponder too well, Moran stepped into his logical roll, "Careful, Jim, those pirates could be anywhere near. Can't let them see us with her."

Moriarty nodded hastily, head jerking shakily, "No, no, I know, that wouldn't bode well. Have to be careful..." He seemed like such a skittish rabbit when he wanted to even when nothing they had yet to cross paths with had ever seemed to cause him a moment of fear; there he stood, holding a man eating, ship sinking monster and he had not even batted an eye whenever she shifted in his hold.

The act was enough to put her off though even if she was less relaxed than she had been. The suspicion was there but not enough to bring her to fight them, still deeming them her better option. Her lips were silent as they moved into the back passages of the city, though, who she might call to was a mystery. If she wanted she could convince the people of any crowd to save her, something told both men she was no honest creature either, but she made no attempt at that. She was using them but that was just fine, because it went both ways.

Moran slipped a few steps ahead, looking around corners to look for unwanted eyes, stopping them a few times until the passersby were safely away for them to progress. Both men bolted up the back steps of the hotel, a two story monstrosity to the eye, greatly in need of paint, a few nails, as well as better railing, and they streaked into the dark inside as quietly as creaking boards allowed. It took each of them a minute, forcing a pause as their eyes adjusted from the sunny sky to the pitch black interior of dark carpet and sparse windows. There were a few men in the hall but they gave no reaction to two men carrying a girl with nothing but a jacket around her. One smirked, cocking an approving brow, but he made no move to stop them as they passed. Had he noticed blood, he might have given protest but he also might not have, assuming it to be from a different origin regarding maidens than regarding a harpoon. Either way, they skated by without issue, dashing into their room quickly before bolting the door.

"You're safe now, dove." James breathed out, making a show of relaxing before he walked to the admittedly less than clean mattress, pulling the sheets back with one hand while balancing her on his knee. Sebastian was occasionally astonished by his skill and balance; endurance too since he ran the entire way with her in his arms, not even winded by it. Not bad for a man that never endured a day of military drills. The great captain set her down very, very gently, minding her leg, and tucking the blankets up around her like she were a child after he was satisfied.

"She needs something to put on." Moriarty started as he turned on his heel to face his second, clearly delegating a task without actually using an order. "We will also have to..." He paused as if pained by the thought, "need to tend that wound before infection can take hold."

Moran knew where the conversation was headed so he assisted, "You have better touch than I would with tending things like that. I will go find her something to wear," he glanced at her in mock concern, though he was not actually worried about a cold blooded monster, "as well as something to eat. Doubt they fed the poor kid. I might be able to find some medicine too."

"That would be stupendous, Seb! You always keep such a clear head, always know what to do!" That right there might get sickening if kept up too long.

Moran boobed his head anyway in agreement, perhaps to all of the above. Getting out of her sight would be nice since it meant he could stop being a good Samaritan and just be his usual self. It did not take more than that to dismiss him and he left the two alone.

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AN: Lots of characters to come, including Irene and so on! This won't be super long but I hope it will be fun for the reading! I was not going to post it until I had it all finished but I'm just to that good at holding stuff in docs.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Pearls and Pirates_**

*Sherlock BBC

James Moriarty, Tom/Sebastian Moran, Molly Hooper

_AN: Just a tiny bit of fluff/cute and lots of Molly being an awesome Siren. Little hints of Jim from IT peeking out from behind the big and bad pirate. Boys, you don't know what you are in for! Pirates are tough, but so is a Siren._

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When James turned back around she was holding his coat out to him, those slender fingers nothing but sickly white against the black coat. Her expression was neutral, impervious despite his best efforts to read her; he could usually read people so well too. With Moran gone he was left to a man-eating monster, which should have frightened him, but it only really excited him. The blankets outlines her so well, lifting away as she reached toward him so that it reveals just a little of the dip in the center of her chest, but his forced himself not to look. He took the offered item delicately from her hand, draping it over the back of the only chair in the dull and dingy room, his eyes fixed to her.

There had been a time the establishment was quite nice but the owner had aged and been uninterested with keeping it up. Shady customers were willing to pay more if it meant they would be left alone, even in a lower quality housing unit.

The dreaded pirate, feared on every sea front, had the vague feeling he might have met his match in this small creature staring back; he honestly could not say if he would win this battle, this exchange, or not. Her shackled hands dropped together on her lap but she seemed quite unafraid of her own disadvantage. A good portion of her hair was dry, revealing the lighter honey color of it, darkening the tips only. She was propped up on the pillows, seemingly comfortable but he was not blind to how stiffly she held herself. Having no knowledge of exactly what a mermaid normally should look like as far as parlor, he could not be sure, but he thought she was a bit pasty. She simply did not look well no matter how carefully she held her expression. It made him wonder more at the damage done to her.

He knew stories, knew legend as well as any, and even knew men that swore they were the only survivor of an attack, but he had never seen one himself. This was new and it was wonderfully interesting. He was at a disadvantage but he had her at a bit of a crossroads too considering her situation. One might almost call them even.

Her eyes were so intense, peeling his skin from his bones as she worked over the problem in her mind that was clearly several humans. Aside from devouring them he doubted she had much in the way of contact with his kind, pirate or otherwise. It must have been confusing to attempt to work out what was happening and what to think of her apparent rescuers. Slowly, he stepped closer, approaching her the way he would any wild creature he might have reason to encounter.

There was no response as his feet drew him up to her side, she only started with big, round, brown eyes, calculating but beautiful.

They both had brown eyes, though his were darker, but still he found it amusing. People associated brown eyes with innocence and a sort of trust that in this case simply did not fit either one of them. He was a murdering pirate as well as pathological liar and she was a monster that lured men to their watery deaths to devour them. People had some rather foolish ideas about what they could or could not trust and most of it depended on appearance.

Admittedly, if he did not know exactly what she was, he would find her sweet, doe eyed face to be easy enough to trust, the sort of girl he would not be worried about falling asleep next to. That being _if_ he did not know what she was, but he did. She was beautiful though, all those delicate features; though it just conflicted with that deep sense in him that told him she was dangerous the same way it alerted him to a dangerous human. There was something lurking under the surface that he could neither pin down or name, but it felt ominous, like gazing down into shark infested waters.

Though dark and curious, her eyes were quite lovely too; there were flecks of blue, red, gold, and green mixed into the dark amber. Her lashes were long and dark and perfect, too perfect. Everything about her face was perfect, smooth and flawless despite her injury. There was a cloying playfulness in her eyes even now, one that made him desperately wish to see her face when she was actually happy, swimming in the waves and beckoning him closer and closer ... to watch that moment of what could only be the start of an enchantment he supposed was the beautiful end of any man she touched.

His heart clenched and sputtered in his chest when he realized exactly how _close_ he was to her now, carefully seated in the hollow at her side as he leaned above her, hand propping him up on the metal scrolled headboard intended to look high class. He had no idea he had done it, never even realized he sat beside her nor did he fully remember leaning over her the way he was.

Wryly, he suspected that was the source of her playfully triumphant look, the one that had him nearly fantasizing about how she would kill him. Not an especially good sign for his sanity or his hopes of winning. Moriarty jerked himself into a proper seated position, hands clasping his kneecaps even though he did not stand or scoot away from her the way his mind insisted he should. He smiled sheepishly at her, blinking hard a few times to clear the last of whatever haze had clouded his mind as she studied him for his every reaction. Yes, men could be lured quite close indeed.

"H-how are you feeling?" He ventured, surprised at the unsteady shake in his own voice that he had not been faking in this instance.

Had she wanted to, he knew he could have killed him when he was so near and he also knew he would have let her. Looking into those eyes was like the lure of the sea itself and he only escaped it because she allowed it.

She had not moved, still tucked into the blankets as she stared at him from under thick lashes, "I am fine." Her response was weak though and he had a feeling she was not exactly being honest.

Slipping back into his roll, he swallowed and made his eyes dart up and down to her legs as if dreading his next words. "I know that it might be the last thing you will wish the hear, but I must check your injury." His sympathetic eyes met with her calm set, "Do you think you are ready? Have you rested enough for the moment to be able to-"

The little hands gripped the blankets and tossed them to the side before he was even finished speaking. Were he pretending to be any more of a typical man rather than a timid and skittish one, he would have let her. She needed to see no threat in him though, so he had to be shy, and so he did as any shy man would.

Moriarty squeaked in surprise, swiftly catching the blankets before she could fully reveal her body to him and tucking them frantically, though carefully back around her, "No, no, you don't need to do that. I-I can work around the blankets." Sliding to his knees, he let her see his nervous grin, eyes darting several places before landing no her feet, "You will catch cold." He said by way of explanation, holding onto his nervous persona.

Passively, she accepted his reason and tucked the blanket back around herself, covering her chest securely by hooking it under her arms. The shackles and chain rattled irritatingly but he could ignore that sound well enough after hearing it so often on his own ship. He moved to the foot of the bed, peeling the tucked blankets free to fold them back until he could find her legs, but kept it to a modest reveal. With this facade, he was not a pirate and he had probably not seen much in the way of wounds, he reminded himself, so his face twisted in overly exaggerated horror, eyes crinkling as he looked upon her battered flesh. The left leg was cut deeply, the flesh sliced in a perfect line and purple mixing with blue spreading round it on her pretty skin.

Her right leg seemed to be the main place of injury; though there was little blood flow but that did not negate the deep gash traveling until he could see the white of bone beneath the dangling flap of open flesh and torn muscle. The skin was bruised here as it was with the other side but it was inflamed and swollen to add to what was already too much damage. With careful fingers, he shifted her leg until he could see into the wound. The harpoon had cut into the bone far enough that if she let it fall under too much pressure, like walking or the inevitability of swimming, it was likely to break. Whatever her fish bones looks like, it probably was similar damage or possibly worse.

A broken tail to a snake was not so different from a broken spine. Little wonder she was captured and even less as to why she let he and Moran take her away without a fight. Wounds like that in the wild of the sea would mean her death. Staying tied to that rock or escaping into the waters would both have meant her pending death. She honestly had no options besides her two rescuers.

When he glanced up his hands instantly pulled away, only partly on pretense. He felt the tiniest bit of pity for her when he watched all that bravery of hers, so careful not to show him weakness. It was obvious that she had not been breathing, holding her breath while he prodded the wound. Her fingers were locked like talons into the covers and they had yet to relax. While her face was stoic it was not hard to see the tight clench of her jaw or the wrinkles at her brow.

"I'm sorry, I know that was painful." Shockingly, he actually meant what he said, he did feel a pang of sympathy for her that he rarely felt for even his own injured men. It might have been because she was female but he disliked seeing her struggle so hard against the pain of such an injury. One so lovely should never put on such a face.

"It did not hurt." She insisted calmly, her eyes following his fingers as they spayed over her clenched fists.

He rubbed circled over her knuckles before he pried her fingers open to show her that he knew better, and he was again surprised that she did not resist, "You have no reason to be ashamed nor to hide the fact that you are in pain, love. It is quite an injury."

"I am fine." She insisted again, but with less conviction. "Injuries are meaningless. It will heal."

"True," he nodded, smiling gently as he locked eyes with her, "but they hurt like hell anyway." Her expression nearly turned to a smile, though not quite, and Jim stood when he gained nothing more.

There were a few wash rags, though rags they indeed were, and he supposed it would do them some service if he tried to clean the would. Bandaging it would need to wait until Sebastian returned with something clean. The wash basin would have to be enough, and she must have been used to cold water. Just to be sure, he left himself some clean water in the basin. One clean towel was left there too. Picking up the pitcher, he turned around slowly, ensuring she knew what was to come. He dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out in the dish before he shook it out and brought it back. Kneeling down, he watched the way she flinched ever so slightly, anticipating what she knew was to come.

Moriarty began first with the lesser injury to ease her into it and he dabbed at the wound, cleaning in and around it carefully. She did not even react to that in the slightest, so careful not to show any hint of pain in her face even though he noticed the subtle shift in her breathing.

"He is very obedient." She spoke suddenly, either to distract herself or him, he was unsure which.

"What?" Jim could not help the confusion bleeding into his voice at her sudden prompt.

"Your companion." She offered as answer, "He obeys your orders without question, allowing you anonymity and obscurity despite your obvious elevation in status."

His eyes widened as he stared at her, jaw going slightly slack against his will, "Pardon?" He could only mutter pathetically, halted in his work from surprised confusion.

Her eyes swept over him a few times, seeming disappointed in him somehow, like she expected much better from him than he was currently offering. "You pretend to be afraid and unsteady but the beats of your heart never increased even when the men shouted. They might have shot you, or tried, but you were never frightened as you pretended to be." Her eyes flicked to the door, "And he follows your every unspoken command as if it is his mission to serve you. So why do you pretend?"

Moriarty could only blink at her, lips parted as he stared in open shock he did not manage to hold back nearly fast enough, but he forced himself to grin at her coyly, "You're a sharp one." He desperately needed to fix this situation and he knew it, lest she deduce too much, "Alright, it's true, he does take orders from me because I am over him rank wise. I don't want anyone to know who I am." His mind was whirling, unused to being called out on most anything.

"Who are you?" It was a sudden though not fully shocking question.

"James." His mouth was quick to respond, but he paused to smile again, dipping his head to look at her wound again before continuing, "A well known one."

In hopes of derailing her thoughts, he let some of the water from the pitcher splash onto her worst injury before he pressed the cloth to it. She gasped, leaning back into the pillows. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, that was the extent of her reactions. The girl was tough, he could not deny that; beautiful and strong. Very difficult to fool as well, it seemed. From the sound of it, she sensed something of their lies from the start even if he could not be sure how much she had gleaned or how much she mistrusted them at the rocks. Even so, she never struggled, taking her chances with different humans like it had been a game of cards.

The more he dabbed at the wound, the stiffer she became, all those broken muscles visibly writhing in their plight the more she struggled to keep still rather than jerking away. Most women, or men, could not handle a wound like this with so little protest. He kept the cloth tucked under her knee as he carefully washed it, not caring how much water the bed would have to soak in. More blood mixed into the water and he was just a little surprised by how red it was, such a deep shade of red, darker, he was certain than human blood.

He felt the need to assure her once again when her fists bunched the blankets even more tightly. "You don't have to hold back so. I know this is quiet bad and none would dare think ill of you for letting it show, especially not me." His dark eyes lifted to her face and he was just slightly enthralled by the way she stared determinedly at the wall, not even the slightest hint of tears in her eyes; those fishermen would never have gotten her to cry.

"Would it make you feel better if I screamed?" Those deep ocean eyes turned to him and nearly stole his breath for the contact, her pain thickened voice nearly putting him in a trance, "Or perhaps begged you to stop?"

James' eyes fell away as he draped the cloth around the wound like a bandage, "No, I simply think you should understand that you are safe here, and if you are in pain, it is alright to let it show."

"You think I am safe with you?" The prodding obviously finished, she seemed to relax enough to toy with him. "Safe with a pirate?" With that she smiled openly, drinking in the wash of shock that spread from the top of his head to his toes.

Moriarty cursed his inability to hold himself stoic in the face of her all knowing eyes, but he was too sluggish at schooling his expression into neutrality, "How?" Was all he could vocalize in the first try, but the second was stubbornly steady as he eyed her carefully, "How might you draw that conclusion?"

Her fingers smoothed the blankets around her as she settled in place, taunting him with silence at first, "Your smell, for one. You smell of sea air, ships, men, metal, and residual hints of blood."

It was rare for Captain Moriarty to be struck dumb, but all forms of speech were torn from his throat, coherent retorts lost from his tongue as he stared at her in honest wonder, blinking at her like a fool. This creature was not some mindless monster, she was smart as a whip. For once in a very long time, he realized he might be out of his depth with her. His feet began to move him, taking him to the scratched and battered dresser before he opened a drawer, lifting free some tools the owner actually kept in every room just because he had been asked so frequently for tools to remove bonds that he obviously took it upon himself to stop the need for asking.

While he had not originally intended to free her yet it seemed irrelevant to keep her in them now. She knew he was not some shy creature and she had made no attempt to harm him. Perhaps it was an enchantment, her weaving a spell upon him, but he could not see reason in keeping her chained when she nearly killed two men before him with those same chains attached. They would not save him if she had a desire to kill him.

Wordlessly he moved to sit at her sides and she offered him her wrists without being asked, which made him wonder if this had indeed been more her idea than his own, but he inserted the pick anyway, sinking it and twisting it in a single motion, a click signaling his effortless success before the first shackles fell away. Her brow arched, indicating that she was impressed but she said nothing and made no move at all to give him reason to jump away.

"Exactly what is your name?" The question rolled from his lips with an odd sort of curious reverence that surprised each of them, and he kept his eyes lowered to his work to avoid her noticing how unraveled her was making him.

"Molly." She answered simply, pulling her hands to her chest once the second restraint fell away.

"Molly?" He mirrored, looking deep into her eyes, allowing her to do the same.

It sounded so human, so unlike he would have ever expected mermaids to name a child, but she was probably not being truthful. Her grasp on human language was excellent, perfect even. There was no reason she could not lie. However she must have learned to speak, she obviously had vast understanding, or maybe not vast, but a healthy grasp on humans.

How did she know so much? Could she read minds? His eyes fell to the bed instantly at the thought. If she could he was as good as dead and his ship as good as sunk. His plotting would not exactly be a think he wanted her to see before he had a chance to spin it into something that sounded mutually beneficial, and he had indeed been working on that already. A stray thought here or there, but he had been planning.

Rather than allow his fear to take root, he asked pensively, "You said 'for one'. What else makes you think I am a pirate?"

There was decided playfulness in her growing smile, "I have my ways."

James tried not the chuckle, not to be amused, he did, but he failed miserably. "Women's intuition I suppose?"

"Something like that." Her eyes lit up with amusement, probably mimicking his own expression.

With a sigh, he shifted on the bed to better look at her, smiling boyishly for her, "Well, Miss Molly, I suppose I can't fight such strong things as those." It might be best to be honest if she already knew, and he believed she did, possibly from her swimming by during a raid or something of the like, "You have me then."

"I am aware." Her head tilted, eyes challenging him to make a counter move.

"Even so, you've nothing to fear from me." He still needed her trust, needed her to remain oblivious for the time.

"So you say." She really was challenging him to convince her, he could see it in the cock of her brow and tilt of the chin.

Charm had always been something he could fall back on and he would use it now, turn up his accent and his radiant smiles for her, "I'm a pirate, dove, but I would never hurt a beautiful lady such as you. While I'm a criminal, I'm not all bad ... still have my scruples."

"Would you toss her over the side?" She asked it so innocently.

"No indeed! Perish the thought of ending a pretty lady!" He winked at her, "But is she was of a mind, I might barter a kiss from her before sending her home."

Molly laughed, nearly throwing her head back to let the musical sound bounce overhead. The sound would have made him gasp if not for stealing the breath from his lungs instead. She was too beautiful for words, too splendid to be explained in words. His eyes must have been wide as he stared at her for she giggled more quietly as she chewed at her lower lip, tilting her head to the side in order to stare at him from a new angle. Just the sound of her could make him shiver with want. But then she reached out and curled her fingers against his palm and his senses came alive.

"Will you ask for a kiss before you send me home?" She leaned forward so that he could feel her breath whisper over his face, her voice seduction in a liquid vapor sort of form as it drifted down his ears.

He was vaguely aware that his own fingers were responding to curl around her cool touch, "Yes." He spoke too quickly and too honestly so his mind reeled him back before he could go further, "Or, most likely, that is. I have never been one to pass the offer of a lady away, be it for a kiss or for mere company." Being drawn so easily to frightened and enticed him all at one.

She hummed thoughtfully, settling back again into the pillows as she eyed his so very carefully. "I suppose I could have fallen to worse hands." Her head tipped thoughtfully, "And I do owe you for saving me. Perhaps I will offer it then, when we each go about our own way."

Moriarty was acutely aware of how fast his heart was beating, the pressure of his blood spiking in him and the starting reactions to the things her voice could do to him. His eyes traveled over every inch of her smooth face, down the columns of her neck, over the curves of her shoulders, leading him to the blanket and the way it fell over her figure. She was indeed a mythical creature for he felt under her spell as he had never expected he would. He could easily be convinced to-

The door clicked open and he was almost thankful to hear a familiar set of boots pounding in. He scooted quickly away from her, sitting now at the edge of the bed as if nothing leading up to his near choice to offer her the world. His eyes turned passively, the mask sliding back into place even though he had no real idea when she stripped it away from him to leave him so open to her scrutiny. There was no need for Moran to know of this for he would only protest everything involved.

"I did get her something to put on, some food." Sebastian muttered as he kicked the door closed behind him, arms full of his randomly collected and most probably stolen items, "Didn't find much medication but I've got bandages."

To say he found things indeed was his code for acquiring things without any form of payment. The First mate had yet to look at either of them but the hitch in his step when he saw chains on the floor spoke loudly enough as he strolled to the table. Meticulously, one item at a time, he put everything down, not turning back to face the two on the bed with intentional slowness. A sign, Moriarty knew, meant that he was schooling his expression, most commonly to hide anger.

When that boyish but stoic face turned once again to them, finally lifting to look at them he was pleasantly neutral, fingering some kind of folded dress as he waltzed up to the bed. He always folded everything, a habit of his, always perfect folds exactly as if he were still in the Navy. Moran held the fabric out her her and she took it from him, unfolding it in her lap to show that is was not exactly a dress. It was a night dress but it did at least look warm so it would work. Even so, the pirate captain shot his crew member a look of derision.

Sebastian merely shrugged, ignoring the irritation of the other man, "Was all I could get my hands on. Snatched it off a line considering I could never explain buying clothing for a woman, now could I?"

Moriarty's brow twitched twice but he grudgingly nodded, "I suppose it would have seemed rather odd."

With that, the old Navy man threw himself into the only chair with intentional lack of grace, crossing his legs angrily, even if that was the only show he allowed himself. James ignored it and both of them turned away when she began tugging the dressing gown over her head; being seated next to her, he quickly stood and walked to the table to avoid any oddity.

There were bandages and those would be quite good for fixing up the rest of her wound and make it easier to travel in the morning, which he still intended to do. She might not have known it yet, but they were all about to sail off into the sunset and she was also about to make him a very rich and very powerful man, more than he already was. Oh, he had such plans for her! They would be quite a legend after this! No one would ever question the strength of his ship again even if they rarely did so now.

* * *

When Moriarty set about bandaging her legs Moran suddenly got a fake case of nausea and left. He most likely wished to get in a few good drinks before they set off and also to make ready, or rather to be sure the men had gotten the ship ready to leave. It would still be dark when they left their less than savory little bolt hole but they were all rather accustom to that considering one had to be up early if you had intention of setting traps for other ships that would sail at a normal time. They always had to be a few steps ahead of all the other little fish swimming out there because they had to be the shark. Sharks were never still, they prowled on and on forever until they found their desired prey.

His chest expanded slowly, her head rising with the motion as she remained with her head on his shoulder. The silken strands of her hair moved easily through his fingers as he combed through it again and again, enjoying the feel of it and the feeling of her at his side. Things like this were addictive to a man, even a man such as himself. It was rare to have anyone be so utterly unafraid of him, enough to fall asleep at his side.

Perhaps one might say he took advantage of the pain he knew she was in after yet another round of tampering with her wound but he was not a good man. When he sat beside her, propped up on the pillows with her, he saw the look of vulnerability in her eyes while she struggled just to keep her breathing normal. While she was as tough as nails, everyone had a limit, especially since she had been bleeding again when he lifted the blankets the second time.

When in pain, everyone wanted a little comfort and possibly something warm to ease it. She was cold like the waves on the sea and she seemed to like his heat, so she settled her head on him willingly after he made her a few promises about his conduct. For a Siren she was terribly set on getting her own way, worse than a woman about the rules she set. Well, she was a woman, obviously, but he would have expected her to be more open considering she did not care who looked at her when there was nothing but a net to cover her.

At any rate, he was her hot water bottle and he long ago stopped trying to decide which of them actually won in the situation. He also gave up on asking himself why he wanted to be close to her because the answer was obvious enough; Siren.

What was it she said to him? "You can be sweet when you want to be" or something like that. Actually, he was shocked by how sweet she was when she was so obviously tired! She had been shy and gentle, a bit human. It made him wonder if the gentle side was her truest considering sleep clouded minds tended to be the most honest since all the minds shields were lowered.

Who was his little Molly really? What was she like when she was not trying to be brave or harsh?

There would be time to explore her different side once he had her on his ship.

In just a little while she would be aboard and he would have her there forever, until she rotted, probably. If she could force a crowd of men to let her go he was sure she would have done it with Anderson's men. With that in mind, it meant she would not be able to bewitch his crew into freeing her. Their talent simply had to be with connections of one person to themselves. Since she had been sleeping he had been doing a lot of theorizing and even more planning.

Sebastian, he concluded, was not under her spell. Why? Because he had not really touched her or looked into her eyes for any long spans of time. The same could not be said for him. With that in mind he had decided their spell was not nearly as strong as people believed. While he nearly fell to her a few times he had not altered a single plan of his, at least not in ways she would wish. He still had his own will and she did not seem capable of stealing that from him.

In addition, when she slept he felt more able to think his own thoughts, the distraction, nearly the noise of her, out of the way. Was he under a spell, most likely, but would he actually let it buckle his knees, no. She had taken him off guard in the beginning but he was on to her now. There was only so much she could do. Making him want her, want to touch her, yes, but give up his crew and gold, not in the least. Siren could muddle a mind but they could not totally control it, at least not after the very first few moments. Perhaps they could a weak mind but he was surely not a weak minded man. He was James Moriarty, Captain of great standing!

No, he would be making her do his bidding soon and she would have little choice in the matter. While he would never dream of setting her out in the sun, there were other ways to get what he wanted. He was not looking for tears anyway! There were far greater things ahead of them! The darkness crept back into his smile as he glanced down at her sleeping face. Thank God he was so lucky! Bless his catholic mother and father!


	3. Chapter 3

**_Pearls and Pirates_**

_*Sherlock BBC_

_James Moriarty, Tom/Sebastian Moran, Molly Hooper_

_AN: Thank you all for the sweet reviews, follows, and favs and stuff! You make my life, okay! Hope you like this! Sorry it's really late!_

_Though, warning, more BAMF Molly ahead! Because I love her being a strong (terrifying force of nature) woman! _

* * *

It was still dark out, a few gleaming stars hanging stubbornly on as morning was ever encroaching over the small, seedy town by the shore. Early morning still held its chill, especially near the waterfront where the wind lapped over waves and dragged the temperature of the water with it. The men on their ships were still sleeping and would be for another four hours. Sebastian was careful as a cat when he crept back into the room, smelling predictably like beer, wood, cheap perfume, and sea air. He had been to the bar and also checked on the ship as predicted.

Captain Moriarty would have been shocked if anything had played out differently. He could not trust a man he could not predict, at least moderately. There were things he was good at and things he was best at. Predicting people and their actions was one he was best at.

He was already dressed, stood by the cracked mirror even if he could scarcely see his own reflection in the darkness. With nimble fingers, he re tied the tail of hair at the back of his head, smoothing it all down and into place in his typical style. His fingers slid over the perfect shells of his ears to be sure nothing was out of place, though the prickle just to the front of them reminded him he would need to shave soon. Beards were something all seamen had and it was much too scruffy for his refined and above average taste; for he was decidedly not common nor average.

His dark eyes were nothing but black holes in his skull in this light making him all the more menacing, akin to a cobra with its hood spread to reveal its second set of deadly eyes.

Moran was stiffly placed by the door, watching in silence as the captain buttoned the last clasp on his coat.

Dark eyes scanned the sleeping creature in his bed before he stepped in to sit beside her. Self preservation kept James from shaking her awake lest he be deprived of a hand after keeping all his limbs for so long. Instead, he cleared his throat and whispered, "Molly, wake up."

Her eyelids fluttered just slightly but that was the extent of her response so he repeated himself more loudly. With that, her eyes flew open, panic evident in those eyes even in the dark. He did not flinch when her arms jerkily shot out, fingers suddenly twined about his starched ascot but Moran was cupping his sword behind her head just as quickly. None of them moved, a set of macabre posed statues in the tiny room.

The Siren relented first, dropping her hands away with a muttered apology that sounded rather sincere even if it likely was not. With her submission the first mate sheathed his sword at his belt and she simply watched him, studying the motion of his hands as if they held some mystery for her.

"Well, now that we had our morning excitement," Moriarty droned in an intentionally lackluster timbre, "what say you to getting about our business?" He refused to betray the way his heart beat just a little faster than it had seconds prior.

"What business?" Molly's sleepy, doe eyes stared at him so openly he rather wanted to tell her the truth in that moment.

The moment passed, "Moran and I have places to go, love." He pulled back his lips in a winning, conspiratorial grin, "You should understand. Which means that we must sail off now."

The expression she offered him was unguarded as if she had yet to erect her normal shield and he could see the flash of fear, of uncertainty, and resignation, "I see." Her hands smoothed the blankets around her noncommittal like, "Safe journey then."

James chuckled warmly, the one he tended to use to put others at ease, "My dear, I am not so cold. I would never dream of leaving a young girl like you alone and injured, prey to the men that hurt you. You will come with us until you are healed and then we will take you anywhere you ask."

The wary shift in her eyes lasted a moment as she so clearly processed her options, clearly finding them few in number, so instead, she asked, "Why would you, a Pirate, agree to that?"

"I am a wicked man, love," another benevolent smile accompanied the stiff lie, "but not an utter scoundrel. We are not barbaric enough not to live by codes, and ill treatment of a lady is not a rule I break."

Sebastian was not particularly in on any of the previous conversations but he blended his assistance in nicely, "We are still gentlemen, men of honor, Miss. It is only English."

The wrinkle between her brows and crinkle in her chin indicated humor, "I am in capable hands then, I suppose, my dear rescuers." She was not stupid but she equally seemed to see no reason to fear being taken back to the water, assured of her secret being her trump card to play when she needed it.

Moriarty took that as all the consent he needed and tugged back the blankets. She offered no resistance; even sitting up so picking her up would be easier for him. Moran swiftly scooped up what little baggage they brought and opened the door for the captain and his soon-to-be captive.

It had been far simpler than he had right to expect in convincing her. Their Siren reclined in his muscular arms, fully at ease with what was happening now. It would not remain so for long but it was helpful in the present. He was smart enough to remain alert though, in the event she changed her mind.

There were few out at the time, only those gathered downstairs huddled around a card table, empty bottles scattered around their feet, but they had never gone to bed to start with. Moriarty did not even give them a look if he was at all honest because they were as good as furniture; no threat to speak of so the two pirates marched down the steps and past them, heads held high as they shoved through the doors. The steps sounded hollow under them as they sped down and onto the dusty walkway.

A few horses huffed irritably as they passed but only the occasional drunkard dead to the world in a chair or huddled off in a corner marked their way in form of human sightings. Had they been walking with the girl in her natural form now they still would have been quite secure. Even if one of the stone drunks happened to remember what they had seen it would be shoved off as the whisky.

It took no considerable time to reach the docks and he hurried all the more as they descended the steep steps. Part of his was anxiously awaiting her change of heart now that they were so near the water, feeble planks under their feet her only hindrance, but she remained relaxed in his hold and demure as a lady at tea. Her dark eyes were alight over the waves, a fond sort of smile almost gracing her features, but she was secure in her secrecy. An error on her part.

The pirates nearly raced up the planks set out earlier for loading and unloading, descending into the welcome safety of their own vessel of destruction and all good and dangerous things. Even in the relative darkness, they navigated the bags of rice, bundles of dry-goods, and large kegs of explosives and other such weaponry procured under the more disreputable means and connections than the innocent potatoes.

The men that actually looked up from their work seemed surprised at the peculiar sight. Neither the Captain nor his First Mate were known to bring a woman aboard the ship even for brief dalliance. Having a woman on a ship was known to be bad luck by most anyway. Whether the captain believed such stories or not, he normally let his men have their luck charms. This was a break from routine but not even one of them dared lift a note of protest. Moriarty's temper was worse than anything Lady Luck could do to them.

Moran trailed them with a lackluster expression, ignoring the passing chaos, still holding the bags. Unlike the captain, he neither cared nor heeded a single concern from the crew, treating them more like animated furniture than anything. James did not care about the crew, mind, but he pretended to; that was the difference between them.

James looked into his new charge's face with a droll smile, "We will have a few ships to visit in the near future, but you will have no fear of that as you will be only too safe in my own quarters for such contingencies." He assured her airily.

"If such is the case, I am assured. A pirate keeps the best treasure close so I am in the safest of company in your cabine. None of your kind would allow harm to come to personal possession any more than a dragon would its horde. I will feel utterly safe while you mortal men battle for your trinkets." She was smiling now, crooning only slightly to return his humor with her own.

Moriarty swallowed, feeling much less assured and his mind found ways to utterly bedraggled him with sudden worry over the potential existence of dragons he might have need to fret over now that he possessed a Siren. Just how many myths _were _real, he wondered uneasily. He would have to tuck the thoughts away for a separate occasion though and he knew it.

His thumping steps quickened a bit as he raced for his quarters without actually running. In other ladies he supposed he should admire the lack of conscience or pity she showed for the sure fate of those ships he spoke of but the face that her particular breed of lady was known to drag those self same sailors over the edge made it somehow less admirable and more unnerving. They were leaving Port to embark on deed of dubious morals and those of outright villainy but she seemed unaffected by that. Most likely because humans were not particularly of any concern to her and thus she had no reason to protest any lawfully questionable acts. He should have been pleased!

His heart however had skipped a few beats when her smile revealed a few teeth he was utterly sure curved in more of a pointed nature than was strictly given to human skull structure. Leave it to his heart to remind him how afraid his mind should be of his own foolhardy plans, but leave it also to his brain to ignore such a warning outright. So, licking his lips, he proceeded down another hallway and up over the dock.

The men there were of higher rank than the loading crew but they were still making ready. Those looked up only to have their expressions shifted quickly to utter befuddlement at the sight of a scantly clothed woman being foisted onto the ship by not some besotted and drunken sailor, but an obviously sober captain closely trailed by the second in command.

It was likely her lack of proper dress that caught their attention rather than the fact that she was female. Sailors were all superstitious but they were also male. They might actually comment seeing as most of them believed they were ranked high enough to speak more freely. He studiously ignored their gaping and hurried along to his cabin before they could try.

Sebastian jogged to get ahead and opened the thick cabin door with a flourish he clearly learned in the service. It reeked of training but James refrained from pointing it out because his second so hated being reminded of his earlier days.

Molly looked about, taking in every lavish detail. She looked pleased, as if it was just as she predicted. A captain was supposed to live in luxury though, and a Pirate even more so. For some things he spared no expense and for others he walked over a corpse to possess what struck his fancy.

James set her down carefully in one of his more luxurious chairs of velvet before he turned back to Moran, "I will have you set the course, you know our intended target."

"Of course, Captain." With a dip of his head, he let down the bags and exited, a metallic clank following after the door was securely shut.

James could do little but smile, knowing exactly how well he had just claimed a victory.

"Well, I can see you enjoy the finer things mortality has to offer." She had casually picked up his specially made box and was examining one of the rings inside; he would admit the way she wrinkled her nose in concentration as she appraised the ruby was endearing.

"Ah, I suppose we mortals could hold not a single candle to the finery you must encounter. Sunken ships must proffer exorbitant amounts of the most extravagant items we have to offer, I wager."

Molly's dark eyes snapped to his face, abandoning the ruby entirely, "Sunken ships?" She smiled then but it was forced, "How might I know what you plunder from crippled vessels before they sink to the depths? I am no pirate."

"Pirate?" He returned her smile with a sharper one, "Indeed not, but something far more dangerous, I would say."

She leaned back in her seat very, very casually, "You think me dangerous? Why? Because your crew stares like gaping fish after me?"

He could do nothing but laugh and shoot her a incredulous arch of one brow, "Funny you should draw that comparison, my dear!"

Her shoulders stiffened against the chair back, "Do you play coy games with me now?"

"Only so many as you have played with me." Moriarty swung his leg out straight, exaggerating every step he took as he moved toward his desk to her right. "But I suppose one could expect no different from a little beauty know to lure men to watery deaths with enchanting voices."

"Pardon?" There was a very present edge to her voice that might have been nearing veiled panic.

He perched himself on the edge of his desk, spreading his hands to either side of him, "What I mean to say is a belated welcome… to one of the greatly feared and well respected ladies of the sea. To my ship, I welcome you now."

Her jaw set and her eyes burned like an explosion from a mountain he had seen from a distance once while he was sailing. "What gave me away?" The even keel to her voice was as fake as Moran's smiles.

"Since we saw a stunning lady with a metallic, gleaming scale, white tail dragged from a fishing boat and chained to a rock for her…" he grinned and chuckled, "pearl tears? You must tell me if that ledged is true, love, because I cannot say as I believe it myself."

The little creature came alive, bursting from the chair in a feat of speed he never expected possible. Her fingers clawed madly at his raised arms, seeking out his neck or perhaps anything of vulnerability. The hissing reminded him of an enraged cat as she leaned on him, her face near enough to his head to actually frighten him quite a lot. That would be how he ended up with an eye patch; while it was a better story than some, he was not ready to have anything the good Lord gave him at birth be removed.

Had he been expecting her outburst or her ability to move, he would have been much more motivated to get the shackles from his desk drawer. He had been headed there but he drastically underestimated her.

Desperation made him more agile and he twisted away from her to stagger across the room where he found the wall to be highly supportive. The Siren toppled to the floor like a doll with cut strings without him there to hold her up. The fury blazing eyes lost a little of their previous influence when staring up at him from a prone sprawl beside his desk. She looked to be in pain even from what little use she put her injured legs to; the bandages were already moistening red. Her arms trembled so slightly a lesser man would have missed it as she held herself up as far as she could.

The intimidation returned when she slithered toward him, fangs bared and her long nails leaving marks in the wood as she dragged herself forward. Moriarty had never been a man that feared very many things, enjoying the thrill of danger, yet he still found himself crouched atop the safe welded into the floorboards. That was simply because he was also not stupid. There were raised welts and prickles of blood forming over his skin where she had clawed at him even through his jacket – torn jacket.

Honestly, he could see how some people would be frightened, how these creatures became the terror of the open waters. His white teeth flashed at her anyway, smiling as wide as he could to draw attention away from the fact that he was standing on his furniture like a housewife that had seen a mouse. Fear was not the reason he himself was trying to stay out of reach, it was just that he did not want his jacket to be ripped any farther… of course. A few welts and a slithering killer on his floor were not enough to frighten a Pirate Captain. Surely he had seen worse, somewhere.

"I take it you are not in good humor? Was it something I said?"

Mermaid's had quite a voice, because she actually sounded appealing when she answered, "Oh, not at all, 'love', I am in fine humor!" Her features softened and she batted her lashes up at him, "Come down and I shall make it all better."

By the sea, he _wanted_ to believe her, almost did actually, "If snuffing my life is what you mean by better, believe I'll pass."

"Oh," she crooned, "what reason have you given me to hurt you?" Her palm slapping hard and loud on the safe made him jump and she smirked, "It is not as if you have lied to me, now is it, Captain?"

The tilt of the boat was only ever so slight, hardly noticeable, but the clanking sound told him exactly what it came from. They had pulled from dock and hoisted anchor. His passenger did not know that, however, nor did she take notice. The Captain was glad, just glad they had set off. If she began screaming any time soon people would surely waken and investigate, which would be rather bad.

Lifting his chin, he sniffed indignantly, "I do believe you are patronizing me, Molly." James had always been skilled at dramatics.

Molly laughed at that, a real laugh that softened her for a moment, but only a moment, "Tell me, Mr. lives-by-the-code, what purpose had you in saving me from a tragic fate?"

"Only the goodness of my heart, darlin'." He left his Irish drawl come forth fully.

"Liar." She shot back.

The Irish lilt continued and he let the age old charm roll, "You have so little faith in me? I believe I am wounded." Their rapport was returning slowly after the initial rift of violence, but he was not coming down quite yet.

"When I say 'Pirate Captain', is that not synonymous with 'boldface liar'?"

"Oh!" He arched both brows, exaggerating a look of shock and dismay, "Molls, I do believe you are insulting me again!"

"Possibly." She conceded coolly, "But that in no way indicates it as untruth. Answer my question and I might let you down from there."

"You are indeed a mythical creature, asking prices for everything." James sighed theatrically and shrugged his shoulders, "Very well, I will tell you why."

Molly's posture had shifted to one of ease. Her motion had been slow when she crawled for his position because she was in pain, which gave him an advantage. With an agile lift and spring of his body, legs kicking out, he vaulted well over the top of her. The elevated position lent greatly to his ability to extend his trajectory but he would not complain. His feet slid over the polished wood as he ran for the desk and skirted behind it to gain access to his drawers. The one he wanted clattered open with a bang and metal clanked together as he jerked out the shackles.

Moriarty plopped onto his desk, jerking his feet up just before her fingers caught hold. The Siren hissed viciously as he proceeded to dive from his place and land directly atop her. She writhed and bucked but he had the advantage this time with her face down. One cuff clicked over her wrist; she reach back wildly with the free one, but that actually made it easier to snap the other into place. This was far from the first time he had ever subdued a fighting prisoner considering just how many rich individuals he had ransomed over his career.

"There now!" He huffed into her ear, more winded by the struggle than he cared admit, "We are safe to continue our chat."

"Bastard!" She snarled through the mess of her hair obscuring her face.

The tone he used was airy and light, "I will have you know, my parents were married! Thank you very much!" He flipped her over once he got his feet under him and scooped her up, "In addition, that is no way for a lady to speak. Fore shame!"

Moriarty stumbled as the ship swayed and he was unbalance until he realized where the motion came from. They had turned while leaving port, heading off into the open expanse. It was a straight line sailing before that, so that was the only answer. Luck was clearly his mistress though considering how poorly that shift would have reflected had it been any earlier.

Molly could not really see him through her hair but she slapped her hands in his general direction. His own dark hair was a bit of a mess after their altercation, which he would fix, but a female had much more to deal with.

He ignored her less than coordinated attempts to hit him – the shackles were heavy for a reason – and proceeded calmly to his bed. Her struggling was halfhearted at best now that she was chained. She knew as well as he that fighting was something of a uselessly moot point.

Gentle as before, he placed her atop the squeaky springs of the mattress and promptly locked the clamp into a chain link to hold her arms above her head. That completed, he sat beside her and meticulously brushed her hair back into place with his fingers. The soft strands slipped through his fingers and he occasionally took the time to massage her scalp; the fluttering of her eyelids assured him that she grudgingly enjoyed it no matter how she hated him for it.

The suspicion was confirmed when he pulled away and strolled to the mirror to attend his own appearance. The glare that had vanished from her beautiful countenance returned and she was instantly more petulant. Everything he had relaxed in her frame while petting her was once again tense. Mermaids and cats had another thing in common; they considered humans only necessary while feeding them or petting them.

Molly was stubbornly watching him as he smoothed his raven hair back into place, dipping his fingers into a decanter of water to use the moisture to affix the change. "Well, will you proceed to tell me the truth or not?"

His dark eyes stared into the mirror as he assessed his injuries, making faces and prodding the welts with his fingertips, "Of course, but I felt the distinct need to ensure that you did not take on the urge to attack me a second time. It is so desperately rude to do bodily injury, or monetary injury, to kind soul that saved you from baking alive."

She made a derisive sound of disbelief, "Whether or not you saved me remains to be seen. At the moment you have done nothing more than to dubiously gain my trust only to mislead me."

"Would it ease your mind if I told you I hoped to partner with you and all your sisters of the sea?" His lips curled in a wince when he found a deep gash.

"Is that some offer of lechery?"

Moriarty chuckled and tilted his head to look at her, "You do me an injustice, Molls, and it was an honorable offer."

"Honor and piracy do not travel the same waterways." She countered blandly.

He ignored the jibe, "What I propose is more of an alliance between similarly interested parties, my sweet temptress. You and your lovely breed of killers feed upon sailor and I tend to provide a supply when I raid ships. To me, they are better off dead and I see no reason to waste a resource. If we work together we each get what we desire through the same means."

"Do enlighten me as to why any with half a mind would agree to any sort of deal with the likes of you?" Clearly her expression would indicate that he needed to sweeten the speech.

"Oh, but you are not thinking of the potential! There is no loser involved in my plan, save the opposing sailors! You and I come out on top of the world, my dear! You and yours have a smorgasbord and never have to peruse sailors haplessly over the seas for a meal; my expertise will guide directly to them; and I and mine keep the loot."

He waved a hand absently in an inviting gesture, "Besides, it gets better! I would build you a ship and that ship will be our flag – attack ship. It will aptly be called the "Siren", terror of the ocean! Better still, it will bear your likeness at the helm… so tell me, what more could you ask for?"

The look on Molly's face was more bewilderment than pleasure, "Are you insane?"

"Only in the best possible way, love!"

Her reply was lost as he pitched to the side, thrown helplessly to skid and land awkwardly over her. She growled in displeasure and wiggled to attempt to remove his pointed elbow from her ribs. Who the bloody hell had taken over the steering? He was going to have the man's—

A loud blast derailed that thought swiftly and his head snapped toward the door. "Seriously? Now? We only just left!" While his ship was fast, as fast as anyone could find, they would still barely be out of the nonaligned port boundaries. There was no question what had happened though. That sound was immensely familiar and he was well aware that Moran would unbolt the door and be—

The door swung wide and clattered loudly with the wall, "Captain, we need you on desk!" Sebastian did not even blink at the sight of his commander and chief draped atop a chained woman, but that might have been because he knew the secret. He probably assumed he was falling to her charms already.

"Right…" Moriarty unfolded and straightened himself out into a standing position, jerking venomously at his vest, "Who is it?" He could guess.

"The '_Deduction_', Sir. They already fired on us." The First Mate was not frantic, only highly annoyed.

"Of course it is!" Moriarty snapped, "What else might I expect every time I try to work!"

His lovely Siren would have to wait alone for a while thanks to the very rude interruption. There was no time to do battle with the Royal Navy's prize ship, the vessel for the thorn in his side, but he had no choice now. Judging by how swiftly they attacked, Sherlock had to have been lurking about at the dock, or perhaps the inn to know when to strike. That was fine; he could humor the little game and then return to his regular plans.

Snatching his hat from the post, he stomped out the door and slammed it shut behind him, brushing irritably by Sebastian. The ever helpful man bolted and locked the door before dashing to catch the Captain. Yes, it would not due to have her escape in the chaos. Good thing Moran always remembered things like that.

He ran a ringed finger over his lower lip in thought as he strolled ahead. He would say his coat was ripped in battle and never need admit it was his captive that did him the damage. That would work nicely; Sherlock and his dogs could be useful on occasion.


End file.
